


(Not Quite) According to Plan

by fembuck



Category: Merlin (TV), The BBCs Merlin
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fembuck/pseuds/fembuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen does so much for Morgana, and Morgana wants to do something for her.<a id="cutid1" name="cutid1"></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not Quite) According to Plan

Morgana rested her hand lightly on Gwen’s shoulder. At the feel of it, Gwen turned to face Morgana questioningly, and the raven-haired beauty smiled at her softly, trying to reassure her maid servant that all was well.

“Sit,” Morgana said softly, her hand squeezing Gwen’s affectionately. Gwen’s shoulders were still tense under her hand and Morgana wanted to put her at ease. It was not her goal to make Gwen feel unease that night. In fact, what she was after was the exact opposite.

“My lady?” Gwen breathed out uncertainly. She was uncomfortably aware of the gentle weight of Morgana’s hand on her shoulder, and that combined with the strangeness of being touched so gently by Morgana for seemingly no reason left Gwen feeling a bit off balance.

It wasn’t the first time that Morgana had touched her affectionately, of course. They were quite close for mistress and maid and over the years she had known the touch of Morgana’s fingers entwining with her own, and the feel of Morgana’s arms wrapped around her body in a hug. She had felt the press of Morgana’s lips against her forehead, and on a few occasions when Morgana’s nightmares had been particularly bad, Gwen had known the press of Morgana’s body against hers as she held her mistress through the night in an attempt to chase away the images that plagued her sleep.

That being true, casual touches between them were still not exactly common place. Despite how fond of her Morgana was, Gwen was still her servant and so a certain distance, a certain propriety had to exist between them. Actions, once repeated often enough would become ingrained in a person; would become habit. This both mistress and maid knew, and so they were careful not to be too familiar with each other in private, lest that closeness begin to bleed through to their actions in public. It was one thing for Gwen to, every so often, gently run her fingers through Morgana’s hair as she served her dinner in the privacy of her room, but such an action in front of Uther or another noble could have very uncomfortable consequences for her.

“Sit,” Morgana repeated gently, her fingers tenderly running down Gwen’s arm. “It’s alright,” she whispered when Gwen turned to look at her hesitantly. “I promise. Sit, please.”

Morgana’s voice was soft, almost beseeching and Gwen found herself nodding before she lowered herself into the seat beside her. Morgana’s last word had been her undoing. It simply was not within her power to refuse such a gentle request.

“You do so much for me, Guinevere,” Morgana began softly, her hand running tenderly over Gwen’s shoulder as she spoke. “So much more than you must,” she continued shaking her head slightly, her tone almost reverent as she gazed down at the dark head of the woman who had become invaluable to her. “You know my needs before I do. You tend to me so well, so thoroughly that I have almost forgotten what needs are.”

Morgana’s tone had lowered as she spoke, until her words were a trembling whisper. Her voice audibly shook with emotion and Gwen found herself clasping her hands tightly in her own lap in attempt to stop herself from reaching up to touch Morgana’s hands.

“My lady,” Gwen choked out, unconsciously shaking her head from side to side as she spoke. “It is my pleasure, my great joy to tend to you,” she continued not wanting Morgana to think that she was a burden to her in anyway. She loved being Morgana’s maid servant, being her confidant, and if it was not to bold to think so, her friend. Other than her father, Morgana was the most important person in the world to her, indeed some days it felt to Gwen as if Morgana _was_ her world. “Seeing to you, making sure you are comfortable and happy makes me happy. You do not need to … to say such …” Gwen trailed off, her eyes closing wetly as she found herself unable to find the right words to express her feelings.

“It is not a matter of need, Guinevere,” Morgana said, sparing Gwen the effort of continuing her previous sentence. “It is a matter of want,” she went on, her fingers trailing over Gwen’s shoulder to the side of her face, where she gently brushed a soft, chestnut tangle behind Gwen’s ear. “I _want_ you to know how much I appreciate all that you do for me. I _want_ to thank you,” Morgana breathed out, feeling Gwen tremble lightly. “Will you let me thank you?”

Gwen nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Close your eyes,” Morgana said kindly, with a smile on her lips that Gwen could not see. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Ladies,” Gwen began, pausing to get control of herself when her voice cracked. “Ladies do no surprise their maids,” Gwen continued a few seconds later, a faint hint of protest in her voice, though there was also a sound of pleasure in her tone.

“This lady does,” Morgana replied, her voice soft yet fierce. “Close your eyes.”

Gwen obeyed Morgana’s gentle command and closed her eyes. She was tense under Morgana’s hand, the impropriety of being spoiled by her own mistress making her a little anxious, but she longed to please Morgana more than she longed to be comfortable. And, if she was being honest with herself, as improper and unseemly as Morgana’s present actions were, Gwen longed for them. She wanted to be spoiled by Morgana, if only for a moment, even though she knew she shouldn’t. It warmed her heart that Morgana was taking the time to do something for her, even though if was her job to look after Morgana and her mistress bore no responsibility to do things for her as well. It made her feel special and … loved, for Morgana to be focusing on her so singularly.

Morgana peaked around to make sure Gwen’s eyes were closed, and then brought both of her hands to Gwen’s shoulders and leaned down until her lips were so close to Gwen’s ears that Gwen could practically feel the soft flesh against the shell of her ear. “Tonight,” Morgana breathed out, “you are the lady.”

\---

Gwen trembled as she felt Morgana’s tapered fingers cup her cheek. With her eyes closed, her other senses were beginning to heighten and she was hyperaware of the sound of Morgana’s breath, of the brush of her long hair against her shoulders and neck, and especially of the feel of her smooth, warm fingers against her face.

“Open your mouth,” Morgana said softly.

Gwen obeyed and parted her lips. She waited for a few tremulous seconds, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited, and then she felt the brush of Morgana’s fingers against her lips as the raven-haired beauty placed an object in her mouth.

“Chew,” Morgana whispered, her thumb trailing over Gwen’s cheek before she drew her hand away.

Gwen bit down and the most exquisite taste exploded in her mouth. She wasn’t quite sure what it was that she was eating, but it was delicious. Whatever it was Morgana had placed in her mouth was lusciously sweet, and had a wonderful texture both soft and chewy but also with a delicious crunchiness to it. It was perhaps the most exquisite thing Gwen had ever tasted and she couldn’t stop herself from moaning softly.

“Do you like it?” Morgana asked, and though she couldn’t see her, Gwen knew that her mistress was smiling.

“It’soh’ood,” Gwen tried to say, however she was forced to lift her hand and press her fingers against her lips before she could continue. Her mouth was still full and she had to stop trying to speak to keep the food in her mouth.

Morgana laughed happily, and said, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” The raven-haired beauty was silent for a second, and then Gwen felt a soft cloth press against the corner of her mouth, as Morgana dabbed away a small amount of juice that had escaped her mouth before Gwen realized talking was a bad idea.

Gwen blushed, deeply embarrassed to have Morgana tending to her so, though a warm and tender feeling spread through her at the same time. She wasn’t supposed to be looked after in such a way, but it felt so very nice to be anyway.

“Open your eyes,” Morgana said softly.

Gwen did, and immediately found herself staring over at Morgana’s smiling face.

“Figs,” Morgana said, still grinning at Gwen, her hand gracefully gesturing to a bowl that was resting in front of Gwen.

After Gwen had closed her eyes, Morgana had informed her keep them closed and had begun to move around her room, picking up objects that she had carefully hidden before Gwen had arrived to see to her nighttime preparations. Once Morgana had settled the items she had gathered on the table, she had then taken a seat next to Gwen and touched her cheek softly.

“They’re delicious,” Gwen breathed her, her eyes still a little wide with pleasure. She had seen figs before at banquets, and had served them a few times to Morgana with her meals in the past, but she had never tasted them herself. She didn’t think much of them to look at them, and was slightly awed that such an unpleasant looking thing would taste so wonderful. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Morgana said, her blue eyes shining happily as she held Gwen’s for a long moment before she turned her attention to the bowl once more. “Have another.”

“I couldn’t,” Gwen said automatically, shaking her head even as she looked at the bowl longingly. Now that she knew what it was that she had been eating, she knew how very expensive the treat Morgana had given her was. Figs had to be imported and because of that they were more than a luxury, they were an extravagance.

“You can,” Morgana said gently, knowing exactly what Gwen was thinking. “You must. They are for you.”

Gwen looked at Morgana for a moment, and then turned her attention towards the bowl but she did not reach for another fig.

“Ah, I see,” Morgana drawled playfully, knowing that Gwen was still feeling hesitant. “You’ve caught on to playing a lady very quickly. Very well, I will serve you,” she continued, reaching for another fig and bringing it up to Gwen’s lips.

“Milady!” Gwen gasped, making Morgana smile as she pressed the fig against Gwen’s lips.

“Not tonight,” Morgana reminded her gently, nudging Gwen’s lips with the fig until Gwen relented and opened her mouth. “There you are,” Morgana cooed playfully as Gwen began to chew, “milady,” she finished, her eyes flashing warmly.

Gwen wanted to protest, she wanted to tell Morgana that she went too far, but she was enjoying Morgana’s mood and actions too much to try and temper them. So instead of doing what was proper, she bit down on her bottom lip and smiled at Morgana, the expression shy yet happy and Morgana grinned back at her.

“At least have some too,” Gwen said when she was finished with the fig in her mouth.

“They’re for you,” Morgana said, her brows creasing slightly in the most adorable way.

“Please,” Gwen said, knowing that she would feel a little better about everything if Morgana were indulging herself as well. “I know you love them.”

“But,” Morgana protested, clearly tempted but holding back because the night was supposed to be about Gwen, not her.

“I’m happy when you’re happy,” Gwen said softly, hesitating for a moment before she reached out for Morgana’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “Please,” she said, her eyes dropping down look at their joined hands, a slight frown coming to her face as they did.

“Well, if you insist I suppose I could be persua … what is it?” Morgana asked noticing Gwen’s frown, her eyes dropping down to contemplate their hands as well.

“Your hand,” Gwen began, looking up at Morgana with wide eyes.

“What? Is something wrong with it?” Morgana asked, a touch of worry coming into her voice. Her hand felt fine, she didn’t understand what had Gwen so alarmed.

“It’s sticky,” Gwen responded, a look of absolute befuddlement coming over her features. Morgana’s hands were always pristine, always soft, pale, and luminous. And if for some reason they were dirtied, Gwen always made sure to bring her water and cloth and would clean them thoroughly until they were once again faultless. Morgana’s hands were not supposed to be sticky.

Morgana smiled widely at that, a little laugh escaping from her lips. “The figs,” Morgana replied, her eyes tracking to the side for a second. She had been picking them up with her fingers.

“I’ll get you a basin,” Gwen said immediately, making a move to stand. However, before she could fully right herself, Morgana grasped her wrist – sticky fingers and all – and tugged her back down into her chair.

“It’s fine, Gwen,” she said softly, stroking Gwen’s wrist gently with her thumb. “It will not harm me. If my condition,” she continued smiling, “does not repulse you too much, I think I shall be able to live with it.”

Gwen stared at her dubiously, still seemingly unconvinced that Morgana _would_ be able to live with slightly sticky fingers.

“Very well,” Morgana sighed, though there was a glint in her eyes as she realized that Gwen would not let this particular transgression go. “I will clean them,” she said releasing Gwen’s hand.

Gwen made a motion to stand and retrieve the basin she had spoken of a minute before. However, before she could do more than rise to her feet, Morgana lifted her hand, brought her index finger to her mouth and promptly began to suck it clean.

Gwen stared at her for a moment in a state of shock. She had seen people lick their fingers before, her father did it habitually and she was guilty of it herself on occasion, but she had never seen Morgana – or anyone of her station – do it before and the sight of it left her somewhat flabbergasted.

Gwen fell back into her chair, her eyes focused entirely on Morgana as her mistress finished with the first finger and brought another to her lips, cleaning it thoroughly, her eyes on Gwen the whole time before she removed the digit from her mouth with a wet ‘pop’ and replaced it with another.

Gwen shifted in her chair as she watched Morgana repeat the process with another finger. She felt hot, and her heart was beginning to pound in her chest. Her bodice felt tight around her breasts, and between her legs a pleasant tingling was beginning. She understood her body’s reaction. She knew that Morgana’s actions were beginning to arouse her, that they had been slowly arousing her from the time Morgana first put her hand on her shoulder. This happened to her sometimes – more often than she liked to admit actually – when she was around Morgana, and especially when there was some kind of physical contact between them.

Gwen forced her eyes away from Morgana’s. Morgana was watching her closely and she didn’t want her mistress to see her arousal in her eyes. Her feelings for her mistress were her secret shame, and she did not want Morgana to begin to suspect her. She didn’t think that she would have been able to handle seeing the shock and disgust that were sure to show in Morgana’s eyes if she ever discovered the nature of Gwen’s feelings for her.

“Milady,” Gwen choked out, shifting again in her chair, now uncomfortably aware of the dampness between her legs.

Gwen sounded almost pained, and her tone captured Morgana’s attention. Immediately, Morgana drew her finger out of her mouth so that she could concentrate her attention on Gwen.

“Gwen,” Morgana said, reaching out for her maid, only realizing her mistake when she felt Gwen shiver as her damp fingers made contact with Gwen’s warm flesh. “I’m sorry,” Morgana said, drawing her hand away as soon as she realized what she had done. “I was just … I was trying to be clever,” she continued shaking her head.

She had thought … for a moment as Gwen watched her lick her fingers, she had thought that Gwen was enjoying it in the same way that she was. She was certain that she had seen Gwen’s eyes darken, and that her breath had become labored with desire as Morgana’s breathing was. But Gwen didn’t seem aroused as Morgana gazed at her then; she seemed flustered, uncomfortable and upset.

Morgana dipped her head down as a wave of shame washed over her. What she had done was not only unladylike, it was terribly inappropriate.

In a tavern full of farmers after too much ale and food, what she had done would have been as common as a cold. However, in a bedroom, at night, as she stared deeply into Gwen’s eyes, Morgana realized that her actions could have been interpreted as something else by Gwen, and was deeply ashamed because the ‘something else’ was what she had intended.

“I’m sorry, Gwen,” Morgana repeated, her own tone choked. She looked away from Gwen, blinking rapidly and then stood, her eyes roaming around her room. “I … I’ve ruined your evening. It wasn’t my intention to … you cannot know how awful I feel for,” Morgana stopped speaking, her eyes closing for a moment as she pulled herself together. “I have something … a gift,” she said turning to look behind her for a moment. “I was going to give it to you later, but I’ll understand if … please, at the very least accept that even if you must go.”

“Go?” Gwen asked, her eyebrows knitting together as she stared at Morgana. She didn’t understand her mistress’s sudden agitation. “Did I do something to upset you?” Gwen asked, confusion suffusing her tone. Morgana spoke of giving her a gift, but also seemed to be banishing her from her chambers, and Gwen wasn’t sure what to make of all that was happening.

“You don’t wish to?” Morgana asked, really focusing on Gwen for the first time since she had stood up. “Go, I mean. I thought … you were upset with me … for what I did.”

“Upset with you?” Gwen asked disbelievingly. “Why would I …” Gwen began before trailing off. She stood up and reached for Morgana’s now dry fingers and clasped them in her own. “This night … what you have done here is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I could never be upset with you for this … or anything,” Gwen said softly, her eyes skittering away from Morgana’s in embarrassment as she spoke, though she was looking at her mistress as the last words fell from her lips.

“Anything?” Morgana asked, her voice soft and breathy as she held Gwen’s eyes.

“Well, I do wish that you wouldn’t leave your belts around so. But that is a minor irritant,” Gwen responded, smiling once Morgana’s lips curved up into happily.

“So you’re not mad?” Morgana asked, her expression sobering a little with the question though she looked far less distressed than she had before.

“No,” Gwen breathed out, shaking her head for emphasis. “Why would you think that?”

Gwen was surprised to see Morgana blush.

“You looked … sounded … distressed, when I … with my fingers,” Morgana related. “I thought that I had offended you.”

“Offended? By licking your fingers? Why should that have offended me? My father does it at least twice a day,” Gwen said. She was smiling, and sounded amused though she was looking at Morgana curiously as if she couldn’t fathom how her mistress’s mind worked sometimes.

“I …” Morgana began before pausing. She suddenly felt very foolish. “You sounded stricken, Gwen,” she said shaking her head. “What was I to think? I thought that you thought my actions … inappropriate.”

“Well, they were,” Gwen replied playfully, “but hardly a cause for offense,” continued in a light tone, Morgana’s defensiveness charming her and easing her own discomfort. “It was a little surprising, but I don’t possibly see how it could have been offens …” Gwen continued, trailing off as her eyes widened with realization.

Gwen was not terribly experienced, but neither was she completely innocent in her knowledge of sexual matters and she realized that the way Morgana had been sucking on her fingers was sexually suggestive. She had heard some of the other servant girls talking about allowing suitors to touch them, and how the boys – if they were a knowledgeable and thoughtful sort – would wet their fingers in their mouths before slipping their hands underneath their girls dress. And, though it shamed her to think of it, on some nights when she saw more than usual of Morgana as her mistress got out of her wash tub, or if Morgana grasped her hand warmly and kissed her knuckles after being tucked into bed, Gwen would find herself stealing away to a quiet part of the castle before returning to her one-room home, and she would take her own fingers into her mouth to wet them before slipping them under her dress and between her legs.

“I didn’t think … that you … I wouldn’t presume,” Gwen began quickly. Her eyes wide and she stared beseeching at Morgana, begging her mistress to believe her, even though she had indulged in sexual thoughts about Morgana’s actions. They hadn’t been conscious of course, but she knew that part of the reason she had become so aroused so quickly was because a part of her mind was wondering what it would have felt like to have Morgana’s slick fingers under her tunic.

“Nor I,” Morgana said immediately, even though she knew her words were false. She hadn’t planned to do something so forward, but once the idea had come to her she couldn’t claim that her actions had been innocent. “I mean, I didn’t intend … I just … I thought that you thought, but … I …didn’t,” Morgana finished weakly.

Both she and Gwen were silent for a moment after that, staring at each other awkwardly. Morgana felt ridiculous, and looking at the somewhat chagrined expression on Gwen’s face she was certain that Gwen was feeling the same way.

Morgana’s lips twitched up slightly, a small, self-conscious smile touching her lips.

“We’re being ridiculous,” Gwen said, a little laugh escaping from her as Morgana continued to grin at her bashfully. “I know that you would never … try to … that you wouldn’t,” Gwen went on awkwardly, “with someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” Morgan asked, hearing the self-depreciating tone she loathed so much to hear in Gwen’s voice. “I’m very lucky to have ‘someone like you’ in my life Gwen. My world would be a far darker, colder place without you and ...”

Morgana paused, her eyes on Gwen’s watching her contemplatively. She was very tempted to say something that she thought would be better left unsaid, but she wanted to say it. She wanted to say it very badly, and she suspected that she would.

“If I were a man,” Morgana began, however her sense came back to her and before she could say anything more, she bite down on her lip stopping the flow of words that had been falling from her lips.

“Milady?” Gwen asked softly, Morgana’s broken sentence making something flare up inside of her that she could not let go. “Morgana?” she questioned when her mistress failed to respond.

“I … shouldn’t,” Morgana said shaking her head. “I don’t wish to offend you.”

“You could never offend me,” Gwen responded immediately, desperate to know what Morgana had been planning on saying. “Nothing you say could make me turn away from you.”

Morgana’s lips twitched at that.

“What if I said ‘turn away from me’?” the raven-haired beauty asked smiling, her voice teasing though her eyes were serious.

“Not even then,” Gwen responded immediately. “I would refuse,” she continued, her back unconsciously straightening as she held Morgana’s eyes.

“Refuse?” Morgana asked lifting her eyebrow. “What if I _ordered_ you to turn away?” she asked curiously.

“I would refuse,” Gwen repeated.

“Good,” Morgana replied smiling warmly. “The only way those words would ever pass my lips is if my words, my body, were not my own. And then, I would need you more than ever,” Morgana continued, reaching out for Gwen’s hand and taking it into her own.

“What were you going to say before, milady?” Gwen asked, unconsciously stepping towards Morgana, her fingers wrapping more securely around her mistress’s.

Morgana took at deep breath, her eyes fluttering away from Gwen’s for a moment as she lost herself in thought. She knew that answering Gwen’s question could be potentially disastrous, but it could also be potentially wonderful and she was very tempted to take the chance. The conversation they were having at the moment had come about somewhat miraculously, and Morgana was certain that another opportunity like this – where the social barriers between them had fallen so low – would not happen again for a while, and she wanted so desperately to know if Gwen felt as she felt.

“That …” Morgana exhaled, “if I were a man, I would consider myself a very lucky one to have you for a wife.”

When she finished speaking her voice was shaking and she had to marshal all of will-power to remain looking at Gwen.

“If …” Gwen said softly, her voice hitching slightly, “you were a man I would … it would be an honor to be your wife.”

Gwen’s dark eyes were focused on Morgana’s as she spoke, and the two women found themselves staring at each other, their hands warmly cradled together. After many moments, Morgana found that she was beginning to feel faint. She breathed in deeply, her eyes blinking rapidly as her head spun. She felt as if she were literally in danger of falling into Gwen, and she found that there was no thought in the world more appealing to her.

“I am not a man,” Morgan began softly, her still blinking as she gazed at Gwen. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she felt hot and tingly all over. She felt as if she was in danger of falling to pieces, but was exhilarated by the thought instead of scared of it. “But I would still wish for you to be mine. To hold, and kiss, and cherish as if you _were_ my wife.”

Gwen trembled, Morgana’s words enveloping her, suffusing her in warmth like the water of a freshly drawn bath.

“Morgana,” Gwen whispered, her hands squeezing Morgana’s fiercely as the name fell from her lips.

“Will you turn away from me?” Morgana asked. Her sky blue eyes were shimmering wetly as she tried to hold back nervous, anxious tears. When she had planned this night for Gwen she had not planned to reveal so much. She had simply wanted to make Gwen feel loved and appreciated, she had not meant to confess her feelings. She had not prepared herself and had no contingency plan should Gwen react badly to her confession. She might very well have just alienated the best friend she had ever had, but the words were out in the open and all she could do was wait to see what Gwen would do.

“No,” Gwen said, her head moving back and forth lightly as she spoke. “No,” Gwen repeated again, her eyes shining wetly, “Never.”

“Guinevere,” Morgana rasped, her hands shaking faintly in Gwen’s. “I want very much to kiss you.”

Gwen took a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes closing momentarily as she fought to steady her suddenly shaking legs.

“Please,” Gwen managed to choke out, her eyes opening again to stare at Morgana pleadingly. “Please.”

Fearing that all that had happened was a dream and that she would wake up any moment, Morgana surged forward, the hand that wasn’t entwined with Gwen’s reaching up to cup her maid’s face as she pressed her lips against Gwen’s needfully. Gwen gasped at the contact of their lips, and squeezed Morgana’s hand forcefully as her other hand moved to clutch at her mistress’s dress, crushing the expensive material in her fist as she pressed herself against Morgana and parted her lips.

The kissed long and deep for many moments at they clutched at each other, their lips only separating when their lungs started to burn and their heads started to swim from going so very long without air.

They separated and took a few deep breathes each. Then Morgana dropped her hand from Gwen’s face and wrapped it around her waist, drawing the lovely brunette against her, burying her face in Gwen’s dark curls. She breathed in deeply, reveling in Gwen’s scent, feeling shaking and tingly and utterly euphoric as Gwen wrapped her arms around her as well and embraced her soundly.

“I had so much planned for this evening,” Morgana breathed out into Gwen’s hair, still desperately holding onto her.

“Was this one of them?” Gwen asked, and Morgana could hear the smile in her voice along with the sound of contentment.

“No,” Morgana whispered, smiling herself. “I could never have hoped for this, though I did dream of it.”

“Then I’m glad things did not go according to plan,” Gwen responded, reluctantly pulling away from Morgana’s body so that she could see her face. “I very much enjoy the way things have turned out.”

Morgana smiled widely, and leaned forward to press her lips tenderly against Gwen’s.

“Me too,” she breathed out, smiling again, “Me too.”

The End

 


End file.
